Oh Mr Postman
by Yuriko Tsukino
Summary: Hermione is sitting alone in her room while she waits for a letter from Harry, and contemplates her feelings for him. Written before Order of the Pheniox was realeased.


Harry Potter Fluff! This is just a little ficlet about Hermione while she waits to hear from Harry over the summer. I don't own HP (unfortunatly), and the song, Oh Mr. Postman, is by a group called B*Witched. If you ever have the chance to hear this song, or Blame it on the Weatherman, you should listen. They're beatiful songs.  
Now on with the fic!  
  
Oh Mr. Postman  
By Yuriko Tsukino  
  
Oh angel I can feel it's not you Angel I wish it were not true And as I walk to the beat of my heart inside I feel like letting go Oh darling now In my dreams you'll be tonight  
  
Hermione waited impatiently by the window, just as she had every night since school had let out three weeks ago. Usualy by now, she would have had at least one owl from Harry, but so far there had been no word.  
She knit her brow, watching the sky for any sign Hedwig, who's white feathers would stick out against the midnight black sky. I hope nothing has happened to him, she thought. Between the ton tongue toffee incident, and the damage Harry said was done to the sitting room, added in with his family's normal dispostition, and the fact that Voldermort was on the loose, every day that she received no word made her more and more tense.  
  
So, oh, Mr. Postman, Give me a sign Tell me you've a letter To make me feel fine Oh don't you know, That I am waiting here for you Tell me it will be here tonight  
  
Hermione crossed her arms on the sill of her open window, resting her chin on them. The last two nights, she had stayed up until well past midnight, insomnia taking over and not letting her sleep until two or three in the morning, where she dozed off in much the same position she was in now.  
The day times weren't so bad. In the sunlight, it was hard to imagine anything bad happening to Harry, or to most anyone, but after the sun set, her worries began to creep in.  
A slight fog began to drift in, and Hermione was reminded of the Tournament, when Harry had appeared, clutching Cedric's body in one hand...  
  
Maybe it's the way that I feel Baby my heart it won't conceal And as I walk to the beat of my heart inside I feel like letting go Oh darling now In my dreams you'll be tonight  
  
An involuntary shiver ran down her spine. She had wanted to badly to comfort him as he recounted the tale of the grave yard, and Voldermorts reserection, but it wasn't her place. She was the second-place friend. She knew that Harry was much closer to Ron; that she had a tendancy to bore or annoy him. He had made it evident after the Yule Ball when he refused to support her what he thought of her friendship compared to Ron. She was only second-best. No matter what he said, she would always be at arms length, waiting on the outside for him to notice her, or having to force her way in.  
Hermione sighed, blowing a lock of fluffy hair away from her eyes. She would give anything to have him look at her the way he had looked at Cho Chung at the Christmas Ball. She had thought that going with Victor would make him jealus, but no. She made Ron of all people jealus.  
  
So, oh, Mr. Postman, Give me a sign Tell me you've a letter To make me feel fine Oh don't you know, That I am waiting here for you Tell me it will be here tonight  
  
She glanced at the stack of letters on her desk from Victor. As flattering as his affections were, they were nothing more. Maybe they made her blush, but that was with embarassment. He was the only guy to ever show a romantic interest in her. What girl wouldn't blush? The problem was that it was the wrong black haired Seeker sending her those owls.  
  
In my heart In my soul Oh Mr. postman At last it's arrived Here I have a letter I know he's alright Oh don't you know There's no one waiting here for you  
  
Hermione blinked. There, catching the light of the full moon was a large white bird.  
"Hedwig!"  
She flew down and into Hermione's room, landing on a stack of books on the desk. Tied to her leg was a roll of parchment.  
Tearing it off, Hermione flicked on a light and spread the letter over her pillow. He complained about his aunt and uncle, and Hermione heaved a sigh of releif. If he had tried to joke it off, or worse, not talked about them at all, she would have been woried, knowing that he was hidding something. He also said that he, too, had received the Weasly's invatation for the summer, but that he wasn't sure how to approach the subject with his "family". He asked how she was, her family, and Crookshanks, and reported the latest from Sirius, which wasn't much; just that he was being double cautious, keeping an eye out for the ministry and Death Eaters, and that Proffessor Lupin said hello and hoped things were going well for all of them.  
Hermione re-read the letter several times, then closed her eyes, picturing Harry right in front of her, telling her the things in the letter, instead of just reading it. She traced his scrawled signature with her finger, then chose a pen and a sheet of paper from her desk drawer and began to compose a reply.  
  
And now I will write And now I will write Goodbye Goodbye Mr. Postman.  
  
Yawning widly, Hermione tied her letter to Hedwig's leg. She flew away out the window, and Hermione watched her go, leaning head and shoulders out the window.  
"I love you Harry," she whispered to the stars, hopping they would relay the message as well as Hedwig. 


End file.
